The corridor was louder than Ishitha had expected, and more suffocating too. Her headphones played a familiar track as she scrolled through her phone, determined to stay in her own world. Yet, she couldn't miss the curious stares following her as she walked. Male eyes lingered longer than she liked, but she ignored them. Attention was the one thing she loathed.
Then she noticed him.
A tall figure walked straight toward her, flanked by a small group of boys. Whispers followed him like a shadow, girls giggling, complimenting, practically fawning over him. His sharp features, unreadable expression, and cold demeanor made it clear—he wasn't American. Korean, maybe. Japanese, at a stretch. Whatever he was, the entire hallway seemed to orbit around him.
Their eyes met.
For a few seconds, neither looked away. His gaze was sharp, piercing, as if testing her. She held it, calm and unshaken, before lowering her eyes deliberately back to her phone. Without breaking stride, she walked past him, leaving the noise and whispers behind.
Ishitha's POV
Just from his face, I could tell—he's not American. Korean, most likely. Handsome, tall, and every bit as cold as he looked. And all that attention around him? No thank you. I've had enough of that in my past life. Boys like him are dangerous—chaos magnets. The kind who thrive on being chased. Exactly the type I swore to stay away from.
She adjusted her hoodie, slipping into her classroom unnoticed. For the rest of the lecture, her thoughts drifted back once or twice to that fleeting eye contact. Those eyes… piercing, unreadable. She shook her head firmly. Distance. That's the key.
But even as she told herself that, something deep down whispered: this wouldn't be the last time their paths crossed.
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